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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251166">quitting this while you're ahead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakeb/pseuds/cupcakeb'>cupcakeb</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>here's to us [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elite (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Rebeka is horrible at feelings, Valerio is horrible at confrontations, season 4 timeline or what I assume season 4 will be, slow burn meets FWB meets ???, they're both horrible at lots of things let them be horrible together</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:28:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251166</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakeb/pseuds/cupcakeb</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's for the best, really. They're young and going in different directions, and this whole thing is sort of new anyway. It's really just a summer fling that started because they bumped into one another at a party, and Valerio told her he'd always thought she was hot, and Rebeka, never one to shy away from these things, told him the same.</p>
<p>Honestly, it’s fucked that she decides to stop seeing him because she realizes he’s actually a very intense person with very real problems, and not just the fun, high dude she used to drunkenly make out with at clubs last year.</p>
<p>OR: Rebeka and Valerio are both objectively terrible at staying away from one another, even broken up.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rebeca "Rebe" de Bormujo Ávalos/Valerio Montesinos Hendrich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>here's to us [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from "New Years Eves" by Greg Laswell.</p>
<p>I have legitimately lost the plot with this story. I promise it wasn't meant to be a two-parter. I just loved this universe too much to stop. ENJOY!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It's for the best, really. They're young and going in different directions, and this whole thing is sort of new anyway. They've only been dating a month, and it's really just a summer fling that started because they bumped into one another at Guzmán’s house at a party, and Valerio told her he'd always thought she was hot, and Rebeka, never one to shy away from these things, told him the same. He'd pushed her against the wall and kissed her and she didn't stop him. She didn't want to.<br/>
<br/>
He’s got this air of loneliness about him that he hides well, but every so often, Rebe will catch a glimpse of it and realize just how intense he actually is.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s not the reason she starts sleeping with him, but it is one of the reasons she stops. It’s too much. Honestly, it’s fucked that she decides to stop seeing him because she realizes he’s actually a very intense person with very real problems, and not just the fun, high dude she used to drunkenly make out with at clubs last year. But she feels herself growing fond of him, starts to have all these messed up thoughts about wanting to fix him and make him feel better and— it’s just too much.<br/>
<br/>
Now she's sitting next to him at the edge of her bed, their legs touching and neither of them saying a word. Her school uniform blazer is on a hanger on her door, a reminder of why this is over and she’s just told him it’s best if they end this, or break up, or whatever you call it when you end things with a person who you never called your boyfriend but still spent four weeks seeing naked every other day.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Okay," he says after a good two minutes of silence. It’s fucking with her head, seeing him this serious. “I guess I’ll see you around.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiles a little bit and looks to her lap, wondering if he’s thinking about taking these shorts off of her right now. (He is.) “Come here,” she says, because breakup sex is always a good idea, especially when there’s no crazy emotional bullshit involved. Neither of them cheated or confessed their love for the other, so there’s no bad blood — she’s just not interested in watching this fizzle out when she goes back to school next week and he continues his impressive transformation into Mr. Winery Marketing Guy. (He came over after an important meeting once and let’s just say he looks hot in a suit.)<br/>
<br/>
He bumps her shoulder with his, then leans over and kisses the skin right next to her ear as he pulls down the strap of her tank top. It’s like he’s touching her with newfound purpose, like he has something to prove now.As much as she’d like to say it makes her realize ending this for the best, she’s struggling with the realization that this — the physical aspect — is going to be hard to give up.<br/>
<br/>
She’s definitely gonna miss the sex, but really, that’s probably the least of her concerns. There will be ample opportunity to find a worthy replacement.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">They get dressed in silence after, and Rebe feels shitty about making things awkward.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, we can still, like, talk or whatever."<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">She knows he won’t call her to talk. They barely talked before this, even though they were probably friends, or something like that. But she wants him to know she isn’t gonna run the other way when they see each other at the occasional party. </span></p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ending this was a good idea, because she sees his lips curl upwards in a lazy smirk and just instinctively knows what he’s about to say. She doesn’t think that’s normal or healthy considering she barely knows him at all. “I prefer when we don’t talk,” he says, throws her tank top at her from where he finds it on the floor and she rolls her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At least he’s got a sense of humor about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leaves, and she feels stupid about the sinking feeling in her stomach. This feels too much like an actual break up; she was sort of hoping she’d be able to skip the moping around stage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then he texts her a stupid meme later that night, and she has to force herself not to reply right away, because she doesn’t need him to know it’s absolutely the highlight of her night. Let him think she has better things to do.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She never claimed to be good at feelings, alright? </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">**<br/>
<br/>
Nadia and Lu are leaving for New York this weekend, and Carla is apparently also still in town before taking off to London, so there’s a super small pool party at Carla’s place where they all try to ignore that the last time they had a proper pool party, Carla almost drowned. Awkward.<br/>
<br/>
Rebeka wouldn’t have previously considered Carla and Lu her friends, per se, but everything that happened last year sort of changed that. Their entire circle is permanently bound by all the fucked up shit that's gone down.<br/>
<br/>
It’s chill, honestly, to be part of this group of friends she didn’t have to work very hard to make. Not all of them are compatible, and there’s still animosity and silly trading of off-handed comments, but there’s no heat behind any of it and she likes that.<br/>
<br/>
Of course Valerio is there. Of course she hates herself for the way her heart beats a little faster when he gives her <em>that</em> look as he walks over. Of course he grabs her elbow and leans in to whisper in her ear the second she’s within reach.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” he breathes out. “I like your outfit.”<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">She laughs. She’s wearing a skimpy black bikini top and jean shorts. It’s truly unspectacular. “You like the lack of clothes, you mean.”<br/>
<br/>
He nods, then sort of motions to his abs. “I assume you do too.”<br/>
<br/>
Harmless flirtation is fine, right? She can absolutely run her finger from his abs to the waistband of his speedos and tease him a little. That doesn’t mean she wants to get back to seeing him naked on the regular.<br/>
<br/>
He groans, low, and she grins at him. She loves having him at her mercy.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">But they’re in public, and she was the one who said she wanted to end this, so she takes a step back and tries not to notice the way his smirk turns into somewhat of a frown.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">She meets Nadia a few steps away as she’s grabbing a beer and rolls her eyes at the look the girl gives her.<br/>
</span></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">“What? I walked away, okay?” Nadia doesn’t look impressed, just shakes her head as she laughs and Rebe thinks that’s kind of annoying. It was hard enough telling Nadia about any of this at all; she’s not the kind of girl who enjoys having heart-to-hearts with her girlfriends. “I saw you talking to Guzmán earlier, I don’t think you get to lecture me on staying away from guys that are bad for me.”<br/>
<br/>
At this, Nadia sort of chuckles, not impressed. “I’m literally moving to another continent this weekend — you’re gonna be in the same city, you have no excuse.”<br/>
<br/>
And maybe she doesn’t but throwing herself into another relationship with someone who she isn’t sure she can rely on sounds like a good excuse, anyway. She doesn’t want to repeat the thrilling ride that was her brief relationship with Samuel.<br/>
<br/>
But she doesn’t want to talk about any of that, so she hugs Nadia in response, smiling. “Ugh, don’t remind me,” she says and looks around. “Can’t believe you’re leaving me alone with these idiots.”<br/>
<br/>
Nadia makes a snide remark about how she certainly didn’t seem to mind being alone with <em>one of these</em> idiots when they went to the lake last week, and she punches her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t go home with him that night, but it’s surprisingly difficult. They’re both fairly drunk, and when he starts texting her on the way home, she goes along with it. The rational side of her is decidedly alarmed at how easy it is to stay up for another three hours, just talking about random shit with him over text. They’re both more honest in the late hours of the night, maybe more honest and open than they should be. A part of her almost wishes he was here right now, because her eyes are growing tired of staring at her phone in the dark.<br/>
<br/>
And really, the hungover selfie of him she wakes up to the next morning only amplifies the headache she’s dealing with.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
</span> <span class="s1"><br/>
It doesn’t help that she only ever sees him when they’re drinking. (She stops drinking tequila around him because tequila makes her want to touch him in all the wrong places.)<br/>
<br/>
He moves into a cute small apartment downtown, which she knows because he’s been texting her pictures and asking for her opinion on which apartment to take for weeks, and there’s a housewarming party.<br/>
<br/>
Or that’s what she thinks she’s walking into when she rings his doorbell at 7 pm on a Friday night, clutching the housewarming gift she’d gotten him. (It’s a framed picture of herself, wearing boxing gloves, one he’d taken earlier that summer. She means for it to be a joke, obviously, but he actually looks excited about hanging it up, says it’s a really fucking badass picture. She tries not to blush.)<br/>
<br/>
They’re friends. Of course she’s curious about seeing his new place. Of course she wants him to be happy here. How could she not have agreed to come when he invited her?<br/>
<br/>
She’s the first to arrive, and he hugs her tight, then hands her a little champagne flute.<br/>
<br/>
“Where is everyone else?”<br/>
<br/>
The sheepish smile on his face is adorable, so she looks away and around the living room instead. “Oh, did I say people will show up at seven? I meant eight, obviously.”<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t really mind, honestly. She hasn’t seen him since school started again last week, and texting isn’t the same.<br/>
<br/>
“Ah, so this was all just a ploy to get me alone. I see how it is,” she teases, and he sort of wraps her ponytail around his wrist and pulls her closer. If they kiss, she knows there’s no way they’ll be decent by the time their other friends show up, so she pulls away a little. She reminds herself of the many, totally legit reasons she shouldn't want to kiss him.<br/>
<br/>
“Well, give me a tour of this place, then,” she says instead, even though she’s pretty sure she’s seen pictures of all the rooms already.<br/>
<br/>
His bedroom is actually really cool. The dark hardwood floors work well with the navy blue sheets he’s got, and the rest of the room is all neutral colors, and then there’s this window front that she absolutely loves. The sun is just setting, and the light streaming in is orange and hazy, and she lets herself fall back on his bed and close her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“That’s what dreams are made of,” he says, voice laced with suggestiveness, and she opens her eyes just to roll them at him when she feels him sit down next to her. “You, in my bed, with your dress riding up.”<br/>
<br/>
He’s seen her naked, so she doesn’t bother pulling it down. Fuck modesty.<br/>
<br/>
She’s teasing, obviously, when she says, “How many of your dreams revolve around me?”<br/>
<br/>
His hand moves to her hip, thumb dipping temptingly low. “All of them.”<br/>
<br/>
The sincerity with which he delivers that line makes her think she was fucking stupid for ending this thing with him before it ever really began. It also scares her and reminds her that this is precisely why she <em>did</em> end it. She turns towards him a little, and smiles when she sees him looking down at her fondly.<br/>
<br/>
Then he sort of brushes a finger over her nose like she’s adorable, or a fucking puppy, and asks her how school is going. She laughs, tells him it’s the same shit, except they’ve got a hot new teacher and he grins at her.<br/>
<br/>
“You wouldn’t,” he says, teasing, and she sits up.<br/>
<br/>
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”<br/>
<br/>
He lets out a hollow laugh. “I wish,” is all he says, and she spends the rest of the night wondering what the fuck that means.<br/>
<br/>
Later, Ander spots the framed picture of her in the kitchen and raises his brow at her suggestively. “Nice taste in decorations he’s got, huh?”<br/>
<br/>
She groans, hits his shoulder, and tells him to shut up.<br/>
<br/>
There’s drinking games, and she makes out with Omar on a dare from Valerio, laughing when they break apart. “You couldn’t have picked Ander?”<br/>
<br/>
Omar laughs. “I’m not sure whether I should take offense at that, because you did just imply he’s hotter than me, but then again he’s also my boyfriend so I agree.”<br/>
<br/>
They high five and do more shots, and she thinks she falls asleep on Omar’s shoulder at some point. She wakes up to Valerio nudging her, her head now on the comfy fluffy rug he’s got in the living room. The other voices in the room have faded, so she figures the rest of the group have left.<br/>
<br/>
It’s probably a bad idea, but she’s deliriously tired so she just nods when he suggests she stay over. He wordlessly hands her the old worn Las Encinas PE shirt of his that she likes to sleep in, and if she wasn’t half asleep, she’d probably ponder how truly fucked it is that he knows her this well.<br/>
<br/>
In the morning, she’s groggy and disoriented but instantly relaxes when she feels Valerio stir behind her, pulling her closer to his chest in his sleep.<br/>
<br/>
Then she properly wakes up, panics and makes an excuse about having plans with her mother in order to avoid being here, with him, with his guard all the way down and hers lowering at a rapid speed.<br/>
<br/>
She can’t afford to get all domestic and comfortable with him. Caring about people has only ever gotten her in trouble before.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
</span></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">She successfully makes it through all of October without sleeping with him. She thinks she should get some sort of medal for that. <br/>
<br/>
Then, she's at a Halloween party — thankfully not hosted at her house this year — wearing a badass Deadpool costume, and laughs when he walks over to her in the most elaborate costume at this silly party by far. Only Valerio could make an Albert Einstein costume work for him. <br/>
<br/>
"So tell me about that theory of relativity, Albert," she teases, and he grins at her. <br/>
<br/>
If she wasn't tipsy, she'd like to think she wouldn't take his hand and let him lead her out onto the dancefloor. A slow song comes on — which Rebe thinks is kind of ridiculous considering the sort of audience this DJ is playing for — and Valerio pulls her close. <br/>
<br/>
"Everything is relative," he whispers in her ear, and she has no clue what the fuck that's supposed to mean, but it sounds sexy and ominous so she sort of nods and goes with it. <br/>
<br/>
They make out on the dance floor for a while later that night, but that's it. <br/>
<br/>
She can't decide if she's proud of herself for that decision or severely disappointed in her drunk self. <br/>
<br/>
Being rational and level-headed is probably relative, too.<br/>
<br/>
</span><span class="s1">**<br/>
</span> <span class="s1"><br/>
Valerio turns 20, and in a move so unlike him she can hardly believe it, he doesn’t throw a raging party.<br/>
<br/>
She knows it’s his birthday because they’ve been texting about it, and she’s made a joke out of changing his name in her phone to ‘old man’. He didn’t think that was funny, called her lame, and maybe it isn’t, but it made her chuckle, so. That’s staying.<br/>
<br/>
She texts him in the morning as she’s getting ready for school, asks him what he’s doing on his special day, and does not expect him to call her. In the 16 months she’s known him, she’s pretty sure he’s never once called her.<br/>
<br/>
When she answers, she’s sort of caught off-guard. “Valerio?”<br/>
<br/>
“Happy birthday to me,” he sing-songs and she shakes her head and smiles. Leave it to him to have this much energy at eight in the morning. “What are you up to today?” </span></p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s a Friday, so I sort of figured I’d, you know, go to school?” He laughs on the other end of the line, and she wonders what the hell this call is about. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Skip school today,” he says. “Spend the day with me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rebeka bites her lip. She really shouldn’t. But it’s the first day in two weeks where they don’t have a test or an exam, and the idea of taking a mental health day is very tempting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She ponders her options. “Is that the best idea?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s what I want for my birthday, so you don’t get to say no.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If she hesitates for a moment before agreeing, it’s only to pretend she isn’t thrilled about this development. (She is.)</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where are we going? What are we doing? What’s the dress code?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tells her to dress casual, that he’ll meet her outside his place in 30 minutes, and hangs up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She texts Ander to let him know she’s feeling under the weather and is staying home today, and she briefly wonders why the hell she’s lying when she could just tell him the truth. Maybe she’ll tell him later. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s another issue she’s got with the whole Valerio thing —- she <em>likes</em> the thrill of keeping it a secret. She likes, maybe even loves, being alone with him when no one else knows they’re spending time together. The way she feels like he’s got eyes for her and her alone when they hang out is one of her favorite things about being around him; she’s sure it would feel different if she had to dodge snarky remarks from her so-called friends.<br/>
<br/>
It’s the middle of November (of-fucking-course he’s a Scorpio) and the weather kind of sucks, so she hopes his plans are indoor proof. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she walks up to his building, she sees him outside in purple sweatpants (Gucci, but still) and a simple white sweater and sort of laughs at him a little. Her own black jeans and purple hoodie go surprisingly well with his outfit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hugs her tight when she gets close enough for him to touch her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks for—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For not leaving you alone on your birthday? I may be a bitch, but I'm not cruel.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks like he wants to say something else but she doesn’t press him on it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what’s the plan? Fancy brunch followed by hors-d'oeuvres and drinks?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shakes his head, grabs her hand and starts walking.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re really not gonna tell me? That’s basically kidnapping.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Except you’re not a kid,” he points out, and she squeezes his hand in response. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They walk two blocks to this cute bakery, pick out a cake — chocolate with buttercream frosting — and she’d love to pretend she let him choose because it’s his birthday but she definitely didn’t. Rebe has strong opinions on cake. He seems okay with that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then they stop at a supermarket, buy a few savory snacks and a bottle of champagne, and he just sort of grins at her as he hooks his arm through hers and starts walking back towards his apartment block. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me guess — cake for breakfast?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grins at her and nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you turning two or twenty? I suddenly can’t seem to recall,” she teases, but she honestly thinks it’s the perfect plan.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They eat cake in bed and binge-watch most of the first season of Big Little Lies, which he gets ridiculously into. She's already seen it, but watching his face for reactions to plot twists is way more interesting than the show anyway. Halfway through, she sort of finds herself cuddling with him, her head resting on his chest, and she figures this can be her cheat day; she can allow herself to be this comfortable with him for one day and one day only. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They must fall asleep at some point, because she groggily comes to when the sun hits her face as it streams through the window and the TV is off. Valerio is passed out underneath her, and she checks her phone just to have something to do. Instagram is full of pictures of him with various other people, wishing him a happy birthday, and she figures she should jump on that bandwagon just to ensure nobody wonders about whether they’re still talking. Gotta keep up that social media image. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Grinning, she turns around a little and takes a video of him sleeping like that, then zooms in on the half-eaten chocolate cake on his nightstand, finally turning the camera around to show her smiling as her head rests on his stomach. It’s super couple-y, and she sort of wonders if she should post it, but decides once again that today doesn’t count. She can do whatever she wants today. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ander instantly replies to her story. <em>I knew you weren’t sick!</em> He writes, and she rolls her eyes. Whatever. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">These jeans are getting sort of uncomfortable, mainly because she had too much cake, so she slips them off and tries not to move too much in order not to wake Valerio. He wraps his arm around her the second she lies down again, his hand sort of trailing from her naked hip to the hem of her hoodie, and she tries not to moan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s been a while since she had sex — she’s been too lazy to actually look for a worthwhile hookup since she ended things with him. She sort of groans when she realizes that was over two months ago. Her eyes fall closed again, and as she drifts off, she finds herself wondering about whether she could let herself sleep with him as a treat, too. Worst idea ever, but she can’t find it in herself to care right now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next time she wakes up, she’s facing away from the window and Valerio is now spooning her, his hand playing with the front clasp of her bra. She sort of instinctively pushes back against him, and he chuckles when she tries to turn around. He puts more of his weight on her and doesn’t let her move. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t even think about leaving,” he says, and she laughs. “There’s still ten hours of my birthday left.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you won’t even let me turn around until midnight?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sigh he lets out is dramatic, which is a trait she’s never associated with him before. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” he relents finally, moves his arm, and she turns around to face him. “Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s way too close to her, and there’s sleep in his eye, which she thinks is kind of adorable. She runs a hand from his cheek down to his lips, sort of pushes at them with her thumb, and moans when he opens his mouth to bite it. So much for not going there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pulls back, sits up a little, and pulls her hoodie over her head. He’s kind of just staring at her in the best way possible, and she laughs as she motions for him to get undressed. “We don’t have all day, birthday boy.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulls his shirt over his head, then reaches for her hip and pulls her into his lap. “We do, actually,” he reminds her, and holding back be damned, she can’t keep up the teasing any longer. The kiss is soft and gentle at first, which feels nice for about five seconds and then she wants more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The way he grabs her hips and squeezes hard enough to leave bruises makes her think he’s not particularly interested in taking this slow either. He’s still wearing pants, which she thinks is ridiculous, so she moves her knees up a little and tries to push them off his hips. He grins at her failed attempt of undressing him without actually moving too much, turns them around and gets up to strip off the rest of his clothes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The moan she lets out when she sees him standing at the end of the bed, now fully naked, is involuntary. He’s way too fucking beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead of joining her again, he leans over and pulls the boy shorts off her hips, then pulls her up by the arm until she’s on her knees at the edge of the bed in front of him. While this is all well and good, she’s kind of dying for him to actually touch her, so she runs a hand up his legs teasingly, grinning when he gives her a dark look. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pushes her back onto the bed forcefully, then kisses her roughly as his hand moves to the clasp of her bra. She finds herself wrapping her legs around his hip, grinding up, but it’s not enough friction. Fucking tease. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on,” she gasps. “It’s been too long.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That seems to have been the right thing to say, because he hitches one of her legs up over his shoulder, spreading her open for him and pushes into her without warning. She has no idea what words fall from her mouth, but he seems to like them, judging by the smirk on his face.<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she tries to get up to grab some water after, he grabs her hand in protest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We still have nine hours,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not leaving, I’m just thirsty.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The smirk on his lips is infuriating, but she kind of wants to kiss it anyway. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think I can help with that,” he says. She walks away before he comes up with any more stupid pick up lines. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Water break, then more cake, <em>then</em> you can help with that, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His sheepish grin is all the answer she needs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stays the night, jokingly pushes him away at two in the morning and says something about his birthday being over. That’s funny for about two seconds, and then he bites at her collarbone and whispers, “Yeah, so you’re in charge now,” and really, she can work with that. That seems fair.<br/>
<br/>
She can barely move by the end of it, and when she tells him that, he says, "You're welcome," and laughs when she hits him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she leaves in the morning, it’s difficult, and not just because she's struggling to walk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">She’s missed this more than she’d like to admit, and it sucks that she’ll have to go back to missing it now.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">**<br/>
<br/>
It’s totally stupid, because she’s barely even interested, but she dates this goody two shoes kid in their class for a while. He’s a year younger than her, blond, and so fucking innocent, she finds it kind of amusing, trying to corrupt him.<br/>
<br/>
His name is Santiago, which she tries not to connect with the country of Chile, because otherwise she’ll end up thinking about Valerio again and that’s precisely what she’s trying to distract herself from. She calls him Santi instead.<br/>
<br/>
If sometimes his touch is too soft or his words too gentle, she tries hard not to think anything of it. She shouldn't be comparing him to anyone.<br/>
<br/>
She takes him to the club one night, mainly because she thinks it’s hilarious to see how opposed he is to drinking and partying. The fact that he’s been at Las Encinas for years and somehow still hasn’t fallen victim to binge drinking is mind-blowing to her.<br/>
<br/>
It’s a really fun night, actually. They dance, and laugh a lot, and he even does a few shots with her. She lets him kiss her on the dance floor because she can't think of a reason not to. <br/>
<br/>
She’s got her hand in his, and they’re walking back over to VIP from the dance floor to where Ander, Samuel and the rest of their crew were sitting earlier, when she spots Valerio.<br/>
<br/>
The look on his face is sort of dark and not amused, and she sees him glance at Santi, then at her, as if to ask if she’s fucking serious. (She wants to tell him she isn’t, but this hardly seems like the time, so.) It’s sort of shameless, how he’s not even trying to hide his disdain, and she shouldn’t find it this attractive.<br/>
<br/>
She volunteers to get everyone another drink, because she knows Valerio will inevitably follow her to the bar, and she wants to hear what he has to say to her.<br/>
<br/>
He does follow her, but doesn’t say anything.<br/>
<br/>
They’re leaning against the bar, just waiting to be served, and he’s refusing to look at her. She scoffs. She’s not gonna be played like this.<br/>
<br/>
“What the fuck’s your problem?”<br/>
<br/>
He looks at her, finally, still doesn’t speak, but the look alone speaks volumes. This is precisely why she’s been trying not to hang out with him — this thing where she can sort of read his mind is freaky.<br/>
<br/>
If he thinks the stupid glances are gonna make her talk and justify bringing a date to this stupid night out, he’s wrong. He has no right to expect that from her. It’s not like she even knew he’d be here tonight, and even if she did, why would he be allowed to care?<br/>
<br/>
The (cute) bartender comes up to her first, and she sort of smirks at Valerio after ordering. Being a hot girl has its perks.<br/>
<br/>
He orders two shots of tequila, pushes one towards her, just nods at her and throws it back without saying anything. The slight set of his jaw makes her wonder if he’s seriously angry at her, which, if so, how fucking dare he?<br/>
<br/>
Then he leans in, puts a hand on her hip as he says, “You could do better,” and walks off. She just sort of stands there for a little while longer, does the shot, and wonders if he’s talking about himself.<br/>
<br/>
(She also hates him for knowing what tequila does to her, because she spends the rest of the night trying hard not to bump into him; if he so much as touched her— well, she doesn't think she'd be able to resist.)<br/>
<br/>
The problem with his cocky attitude is that she knows it’s justified — she knows exactly how much better he is at… <em>everything</em>.<br/>
<br/>
Rebe doesn’t like to play games, so she goes home alone that night, tells her boring school fling of two weeks it’s over, and doesn’t dwell on the fact that it might be related to a certain reckless dark-haired boy with unruly curls.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
She never cared enough, really, to miss anyone before. She does now. It's infuriating.<br/>
<br/>
Valerio skips a couple of parties she knows he was invited to, and it’s so obvious even Ander, who tends to be a little oblivious, notices.<br/>
<br/>
He asks her about it at school one day during lunch and she scoffs. “How the fuck would I know, Ander? He’s not my fucking responsibility!”<br/>
<br/>
“Whoa, easy,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. “Did anything happen?”<br/>
<br/>
It’s none of his business, but with Nadia a six-hour time difference away, it would be kind of nice to have someone to talk to about this. She sighs. “Not recently…”<br/>
<br/>
Valerio hasn’t spoken to her since the other night at the club, hasn’t even sent her any stupid memes lately, and she’s too stubborn and too afraid of being called out to text him first. Maybe she should.<br/>
<br/>
Ander laughs at her when she tells him what’s been going on. “So why the hell are you not seeing him anymore?”<br/>
<br/>
She feels called out and defensive. “Because there’s no way he’d want a serious relationship, and I don’t feel like waking up one day realizing I’ve grown attached to someone who barely even tolerates me.”<br/>
<br/>
“He’s literally avoiding you because he saw you kiss some floppy-haired blond dude at a party, I’m pretty sure he wants to do a lot more than <em>tolerate</em> you.”<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully, the bell rings to signal the end of lunch, giving her a great excuse to stop having this conversation.<br/>
<br/>
She begrudgingly sends Valerio the latest strange planet comic strip that night, hoping he’ll accept her peace offering in the form of weird alien jokes, and smiles when he replies straight away.<br/>
<br/>
It feels like a weight has been lifted off her chest, so she sends him a few more memes, tells him a random story about one of their former teachers, and falls asleep feeling slightly less anxious than she was before.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
She rings his doorbell on a Saturday afternoon and sort of groans when he buzzes her up and opens the door in nothing but a white towel.<br/>
</span></p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">“It’s cool if you just miss me like crazy and can’t stand to be away.” He’s teasing, laughs when she shoves at his chest, then grabs her by the wrist to pull her into a hug.<br/>
<br/>
This isn’t why she’s here. It’s not. She needs to keep repeating that mantra to avoid ending up on her back.<br/>
<br/>
They have plans to go to the Christmas market at Plaza Mayor, and she’d offered to meet him here so they could walk there together. Ander, Omar, Guzmán and Samuel will be joining them, but she felt the need to have a few minutes to herself with him, just to make sure things aren’t awkward between them.<br/>
<br/>
She playfully pulls on his towel, then grabs it and shoos him away with it. “Get dressed, it’s too cold for streaking!”<br/>
<br/>
It’s not awkward at all, and that kind of gives her pause. When she spots Ander and Omar waiting for them with steaming cups of mulled wine, she smiles, but she’s also kind of annoyed that she’ll have to talk to people other than Valerio tonight.<br/>
<br/>
They drink too much mulled wine, then a little bit of eggnog, and by the end of the night her head is spinning from a mixture of alcohol and way too much sugar.<br/>
<br/>
Guzmán and Samuel get drunker than most of them, having gone for mulled wine spiked with brandy, and her and Valerio just sort of stand next to them and laugh when they start dancing and screaming to that annoying Mariah Carey Christmas song.<br/>
<br/>
He lets her borrow his scarf when she gets cold, and pecks her lips just once, quickly when he puts it around her neck. She can’t tell if any of their friends saw, but none of them say anything so she figures they’re fine.<br/>
<br/>
When she gets home that night, she finds a video of Guzmán and Samu’s drunk dancing on Omar’s Instagram and watches it at least five times, trying to figure out when she ended up with her head on Valerio’s shoulder and his arm around her.<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t remember that at all, and figures it must be because of the alcohol, the sugar, or a combination of both.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
Valerio skips Omar’s birthday night out, and Rebeka tries not to feel too disappointed. It’s still super fun, because they’re at a burlesque venue and they get sufficiently drunk, but she knows it would’ve been a lot more fun with him by her side.<br/>
<br/>
When she checks her phone halfway through the night and finds he’s posted a picture of some blonde chick and a three-course meal to his story, she feels angry, and then nauseous. (The girl is cute, and girly, and everything Rebe thinks she isn't. That only makes her feel worse.)<br/>
<br/>
Omar notices her change in mood, asks her what’s wrong, and she just shakes her head and tells him they need to do more shots.<br/>
<br/>
She has no right to be angry at him for dating other people. She repeats that mantra in her head several times, then does more fireball shots until she’s too drunk to think it.<br/>
<br/>
Omar has to physically carry her into a cab at the end of the night, and she leans on his shoulder as they wait.<br/>
<br/>
“You really need to learn when to stop,” he says, laughing, and she thinks he means the drinking but can’t help but apply that to her stupid fucking tendency to want to be around Valerio at all times.<br/>
<br/>
“He needs to stop,” she says, petulant, and Omar just laughs at her like she’s not even being a little subtle. Whatever. Subtlety is <em>so</em> five drinks ago.<br/>
<br/>
“Hun, you two are some of the most stubborn people I know,” he seems to consider this, then runs a hand over her shoulder. “Actually, it’s just you — you’re the stubborn one.”<br/>
<br/>
She pukes her guts out for an entire hour after she gets home, then strips off her dress and falls into bed. When she unlocks her phone, she can barely see the screen because everything’s sort of spinning, but she still dials Valerio’s number, doesn’t even care that it’s after midnight.<br/>
<br/>
The first thing she hears on the other end of the line is his laughter. “Is this a booty call?”<br/>
<br/>
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck off,” she says, but she’s slurring her words so it sounds more like ‘foff’. “Where‘re you?”<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m at home, and you’re drunk,” he concludes.<br/>
<br/>
“Am not,” she says, even though she’s proving his point with every word she says. “Who are you with?”<br/>
<br/>
Now he’s actually laughing. “Are you jealous?<br/>
<br/>
Ugh. Is he taking advantage of her current state of inebriation? And why is he pointing out the obvious? Way to be annoying.<br/>
<br/>
“Never mind,” she says, suddenly angry drunk. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else.”<br/>
<br/>
He’s quiet for a moment and his voice sounds somber and serious when he speaks again. “Sleep it off,” he says, then hangs up before she can make more of a fool of herself.<br/>
<br/>
If she wasn’t worried about throwing up in his face, she’d go over there and give him a piece of her mind right now.<br/>
<br/>
She’s still angry when she wakes up again three hours later, throws up again, and gets back into bed feeling absolutely miserable. When she opens one eye to squint at her phone, there’s a text from him that just says ‘DRINK WATER’ and she genuinely thinks she might cry if she hadn’t puked up all the liquids in her body already.<br/>
<br/>
She’s such a fucking idiot.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">It would be a lot easier to stay away from him if she felt like he was actually mad at her for drunk-dialing him and being jealous for absolutely no reason.<br/>
<br/>
But Valerio doesn’t hold grudges, so they go back to normal almost immediately — him texting her on and off all day, her trying not to be too eager in replying to him the second she sees a new notification from him.<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t ask about the girl she saw in his stories again, and he doesn’t bring it up, so she figures she was either totally wrong, or he’s sparing her the details of his hookup to be nice.<br/>
<br/>
He comes over to her house a few days later, because he’s been telling her he wants to learn how to box for a while, and she’s bored enough to think watching him struggle would be fun.<br/>
<br/>
Her mom gives him a slow once over when he walks in, and Rebe groans and drags him downstairs by his hand.<br/>
<br/>
“Excuse the blatant sexual harassment courtesy of my mother,” she mutters, handing him a pair of boxing gloves.<br/>
<br/>
He chuckles, then sort of winks at her. “Maybe it’s genetic, maybe all women in your bloodline can’t stay away from me.”<br/>
<br/>
She playfully hits him in the shoulder with her boxing glove clad fist, then pushes him towards the punching bag.<br/>
<br/>
“Stop talking about bloodlines, this isn’t Game of Thrones.”<br/>
<br/>
He’s actually way too uncoordinated to be good at boxing, and it’s fucking hilarious. Apparently the only workout he's good at is sit-ups — hence the abs. When they have to stop for the third time because she has a little laughing fit, he punches the bag extra hard, sort of frustrated, and strips off his shirt.<br/>
<br/>
She gives him a look, because that’s not playing fair. If she has to look at his abs while they do this, it’s gonna be a lot harder to focus on making fun of him.<br/>
<br/>
By sheer force of will, she gets through the entire night without kissing him, and she thinks she’s won until she walks him out to his new mountain bike (he’s taken up biking, apparently, which... Okay?), goes in for a hug, and sort of squeals a little when he kisses her instead. It’s not dirty, or particularly passionate, and before she can even really make up her mind about how she feels about this, he’s pulled away and put on his bike helmet.<br/>
<br/>
“Safety first,” he says, when she points at it and laughs. The helmet is a rainbow-colored neon monstrosity.<br/>
<br/>
“I’d rather die than be seen with that on my head,” she says, then waves as he bikes off.<br/>
<br/>
“Have fun dying,” he throws over his shoulder, and she flips him off.<br/>
<br/>
She spends the rest of her night studying for an exam she already aced last year, and still can’t stop thinking about how much easier this would be if she could stop herself from freezing up and feeling absolutely terrified at the idea of being in a serious relationship with him.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
Her mother asks her how her boyfriend is doing on the sixth of December (it’s so traumatizing, she remembers the exact date) and Rebe kind of just stares at her for a minute.<br/>
<br/>
“I don’t have a boyfriend, mom,” she says, and her mom just laughs and gives her a doubtful look.<br/>
<br/>
Rebe is pissed. “What makes you think I have a boyfriend?”<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t go all defensive on me, sweetie,” her mother takes a drag of her cigarette and grins at her. “I’m glad you’re having some fun, lord knows you need it.”<br/>
<br/>
“You know, when I was your age…” She trails off. Then, she tells her all about how important ‘getting your business taken care of’ regularly is for your health, and Rebeka groans, then loudly tells her to shut up and walks away.<br/>
<br/>
That’s the end of that conversation, because she’s pretty sure she’d start yelling at her mom if she had to listen to any more of her cringe-worthy sex advice columnist-type stories.<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and if she did, she sure as hell wouldn’t be telling her mother about it.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
</span></p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Guzmán calls her on a Sunday afternoon, which is probably the most random thing that’s ever happened to her. It’s not like they’re even really friends. Christmas is four days away, they don’t have to go back to school until early January, and she’s struggling to come up with a reason why he’d be calling her.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s wrong?” She asks, alarmed, and the way he sighs tells her she’s not wrong to be concerned.<br/>
<br/>
“Can you go check on Valerio?”<br/>
<br/>
She’s in leggings and a hoodie, but still instantly grabs her wallet and keys, heading for the door.<br/>
<br/>
“Why? What happened?”<br/>
<br/>
She puts him on speaker, and orders a Cabify while she waits for Guzmán to explain what the fuck is going on.<br/>
<br/>
“Lu can’t get ahold of him, and she’s got a weird feeling about it,” he says, and Rebeka would normally argue that Lu’s sixth sense is clearly broken, but she’s also barely heard from Valerio in days, which is uncharacteristic. “I think you’re the only person he’d let in, so… Just go, alright?”<br/>
<br/>
Rebe is kind of wondering why Lu didn’t just call her herself, but then again, she doubts the girl knows they’re close, so it makes sense for her to ask Guzmán to do this.<br/>
<br/>
“Okay,” she says, then takes a deep breath and sighs when she gets a notification that her car is still five minutes away. “Okay.”<br/>
<br/>
There’s no answer when she rings his doorbell, and she’s starting to actually be worried now. She calls him and rolls her eyes when he doesn’t answer. But she’s persistent, just calls him back again, and he finally answers on the third ring.<br/>
<br/>
“What,” he bites gruffly, and he sounds like he’s either been sleeping or drinking. Maybe both.<br/>
<br/>
“Open the fucking door, moron,” she says, rings it again, and lets out a sigh of relief when he buzzes her up.<br/>
<br/>
When she gets upstairs, he’s just left the door open for her, so she walks in and closes it. She finds him in the living room, sprawled out on the couch in just a shirt and briefs and rolls her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t say hi, doesn’t even look up at her really, and she’s pissed. Worried, mostly, but now that she knows he’s not hanging from the fucking ceiling by his neck, also pissed.<br/>
<br/>
“Why the fuck aren’t you answering your sister’s calls?”<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t look like he’s gonna answer her, so she walks over and sits down next to him, then types out a quick text to Guzmán and Lu telling them he’s alive. Lu instantly replies, tells her to ‘fucking strangle him' and she laughs a little.<br/>
<br/>
Valerio wordlessly hands her a bottle of whiskey, which is half empty, and she rolls her eyes as she takes a swig. “Why are you moping around like this?” She wants to say this isn’t like him, but as she looks at him and sees the empty look on his face, she worries she might not know him as well as she thought she did.<br/>
<br/>
He moves over, puts his head in her lap, and she smiles a little as she runs her hands through his curls. If he needs a little bit of meaningless affection, she’s happy to help with that.<br/>
<br/>
She’s kind of forgotten they were having a conversation when he finally speaks.<br/>
<br/>
“My mother called me this week,” he says, and her hand in his hair instantly freezes. She knows next to nothing about his parents, especially not his mother, who he’s never mentioned before. If she’s calling him, something must be wrong.<br/>
<br/>
Rebeka doesn’t want to pry, but she thinks he might benefit from talking to someone about this.<br/>
<br/>
She runs a hand over his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “What did she want?”<br/>
<br/>
He sighs, stares up at the ceiling. “She wants to make amends,” he says, and she doesn’t ask for what, but she wants to. “She just got out of rehab, apparently.”<br/>
<br/>
Substance abuse running in the family is an oddly fitting narrative, Rebe thinks. At least he’s gotten over his affinity to drugs.<br/>
<br/>
“And you don’t want to?”<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t think he’s drunk, and she has no reason to believe he wouldn’t do it sober, but when he sits up and kisses her, she's still startled.<br/>
<br/>
If she pushes him away, it’s because she feels conflicted about this — he’s clearly not in the right state of mind to do this. But he doesn’t let her, just leans in again, rests his forehead against hers and breathes in deep. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, and maybe she’ll let him get away with that for now.<br/>
<br/>
She leaves sometime after 11:00, because her mother texted her asking about her whereabouts and she didn’t feel like getting into it.<br/>
<br/>
The look on his face as she walks out the door nearly makes her cry.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
He shows up at her house the next day, and she’s glad her mother isn’t home. When she answers the door he looks kind of exhausted, just lets out a little breath and looks at her for a moment. It breaks her heart a little, to see him this miserable.<br/>
<br/>
Then he grabs her, wraps her up in his arms, and she holds him tight. Valerio is always affectionate, but this needy, helpless type of affection is new to her. It’s pretty terrifying.<br/>
<br/>
He literally pushes the door closed behind them, then drags her up to her room and onto her bed, kisses her before she can ask how he’s doing or why he came here. They haven’t spoken one word to one another, now that she thinks about it.<br/>
<br/>
The problem is that she really, really wants to actually talk to him about this. It can’t be healthy for him to try and drink his problems away — she can taste the whiskey on his breath — and she’s trying to walk the delicate line between not talking and <em>just</em> talking enough.<br/>
<br/>
But then his hands are on her hips under her shirt, and he’s biting at her neck, then presses his face against it and just lays there for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, which, coming from him might as well be a confession of love. She tries not to think of it as one.<br/>
<br/>
She pulls him down for a kiss, then hugs him, and weirdly he doesn’t try to grope her further, doesn’t even make a lewd comment about her not wearing a bra. She knows she looks terrible, but whatever. It's easy not to care about those things with him.<br/>
<br/>
She’s not entirely sure how long they stay like that, just sort of breathing together, has lost track of counting the number of deep breaths he takes or how hard he’s trying not to break down completely. (very hard) He falls asleep at some point and she lets him, because he looks exhausted.<br/>
<br/>
Rebe is fighting sleep for a while, sort of trying to stay awake in case he wakes up and wants to talk, but finally passes out too.<br/>
<br/>
He wakes her up by kissing a path down her neck later, when the alarm clock on her nightstand reads 2 am, and she moans even though she’d told herself she wouldn’t let this happen again. (She's always telling herself that as of late, and yet that somehow isn't stopping her from doing it anyway.)<br/>
<br/>
“Hi,” she whispers, trying not to smile when he laughs a little. It’s a gentle reminder that maybe the Valerio she knew before all this is still in there.<br/>
<br/>
He pulls her into his lap and smiles, just a bit. “Hey.”<br/>
<br/>
She’s still half asleep, and he seems groggy too, judging by the roughness of his voice. He kisses her and she lets him, if only because she’s too afraid of what he might do if she pushed him away now.<br/>
<br/>
Even later, her eyes are falling closed as he draws soothing circles on her naked back. “I told her I don’t ever want to see her again,” his voice is quiet, like he’s scared to admit it.<br/>
<br/>
Figuring out what to say to that is impossible, especially because she doesn’t know the whole story. But Rebe sort of instinctively feels anger towards this woman she’s never met, this woman who was clearly so absent from his life, he’s never bothered to mention her. This woman, who she keeps referring to as just that — some random woman — because the term ‘mother’ implies taking care of a person in a way she obviously hasn’t.<br/>
<br/>
“Good,” she says, and it comes out louder than she means for it to. “She doesn’t deserve you, anyway.”<br/>
<br/>
He sighs, long and deep, and she turns around so she can put her head on his chest. “I’m serious, alright? Fuck her. Fuck her for trying to come back into your life now, when you’re already a fully formed person, when you’re thriving and have made something out of yourself. She doesn’t get to take credit for that just because she finally dragged her ass into rehab.”<br/>
<br/>
The way her voice is shaking a little makes her want to go down to the basement and hit the fucking punching bag, because she’s actually shaking with anger, trying hard not to freak him out when her breathing gets heavy.<br/>
<br/>
This time it’s him calming her down. He pulls her into his lap, then kisses her slowly, until her breathing is back to normal.<br/>
<br/>
Her insistence at not getting emotionally involved with him is so far from her mind, she’s pretty sure she’ll need a severe talking to from Rational Rebeka™ in the morning.<br/>
<br/>
All night, she drifts in and out of sleep, just sort of bracing for the moment when he’ll finally wake up and properly break down. He doesn’t.<br/>
<br/>
He kisses her awake in the morning, breathes, “Thank you,” against her lips and when he tries to pull away and leave, she doesn’t let him.<br/>
<br/>
(What difference does it make now? She can selfishly keep him here a little longer.)<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
She spends Christmas Eve at his place, because she and her mother don’t actually care about Christmas, and Valerio was gonna spend it alone. Samuel comes over for dinner, which is good because it means Rebeka isn’t tempted to fuck away the feelings she’s in denial about.<br/>
<br/>
The boys cook dinner, which goes over about as well as you can imagine, but it's still a better result than anything she could’ve made, so she grins and tells them it's the most okay lasagna she’s ever had.<br/>
<br/>
They take a picture together using her phone’s self-timer and Valerio posts it to Instagram, captions it “most okay xmas” and she laughs more than she should.<br/>
<br/>
Lu and Nadia call them at some point, both stuck in New York for the holidays because the break was too short to come home, and it’s honestly one of the best Christmases Rebeka has ever had.<br/>
<br/>
At the end of the night, Valerio thanks them for their company, and she pretends she doesn’t catch his drift when he suggests she stay behind to clean up. She really needs to stop doing this, and she’s hellbent on actually leaving when Samuel does. But then she leaves her phone inside by accident, tells him to go ahead, and well — Valerio is waiting for her in the kitchen, most of his clothes discarded and her phone in hand. Nobody can blame her for not saying no to that.<br/>
<br/>
It’s a very merry Christmas indeed.<br/>
<br/>
She's so fucked, it's not even funny.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
<em>tbc</em></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, let’s do more shots!”<br/>
<br/>
They’re all at Rebeka’s house for New Year’s because her pool is heated and her mother doesn’t care about her having a bunch of people over. Valerio is pretty sure she isn’t even home. Knowing what he does about her mom, she’s probably at a raging party somewhere, not acting her age.<br/>
<br/>
It’s just the six of them — Ander and Omar are sitting at the edge of the pool, only their legs dangling in the heated water, while Guzmán and Samu are floating near the deep end. Valerio is currently hanging onto Rebe from behind, trying hard to convince her to drink more. She’s devastatingly sober, and it’s New Year’s Eve — the best excuse to get drunk there ever was.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s 10 pm, Valerio,” she laughs, swats his hands away when he runs them over her bikini top underwater. “If I get too drunk now, I’ll be asleep by midnight.”<br/>
<br/>
He chuckles, then leans in to nuzzle her neck. “I’ll keep you up, don’t worry,” he whispers and she groans, then elbows him in the ribs to get away from him.<br/>
<br/>
Next to them, Ander laughs. Valerio figures that’s enough encouragement to drag him into this.<br/>
<br/>
“Ander,” he yells, then swims towards the edge of the pool. Rebe follows him, so she can’t be that unwilling to let him corrupt her. “Back me up on this. Wanna do tequila shots with us?”<br/>
<br/>
Omar is just sort of sitting back and watching their exchange, an amused look on his face.<br/>
<br/>
“No way,” Ander says, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. “I know how you two get when you drink tequila. None of us want to be around for that.”<br/>
<br/>
That’s a valid point to make, probably. He’ll give him that. Valerio chuckles, then grabs Rebeka around the waist and pulls her close again. She instantly leans back against him, lets him rest his chin on her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
The fact that she isn’t arguing Ander on the tequila thing is indicative of just how right he is; there may or may not have been multiple incidents involving tequila and them, in places you could argue weren’t exactly private. It’s not his fault Rebe gets handsy when she drinks too much of it.<br/>
<br/>
It’s definitely not his fault he can’t be bothered to say no to her.<br/>
<br/>
“Fine,” Valerio says, dramatic. “Vodka, then? Gin? Anything? Come on, this is a celebration of the new year to come; stop acting like you’re too cool to have fun.”<br/>
<br/>
Omar grins and nudges Ander at that. “He’s not wrong, you know…”<br/>
<br/>
They spend the final two hours of the year drinking and swimming and dancing, because none of them can think of a more fun way to end this bizarre year in style.<br/>
<br/>
He kisses Rebeka at midnight, because he wants to. It’s that simple.<br/>
<br/>
When she grins at him, tipsy and uninhibited, he’s pretty sure this is exactly how he’d like to spend the rest of the new year, too.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
The truth is Valerio has never cared much about labels. He doesn’t need her to refer to him as her boyfriend, or tell her he loves her or call her sickeningly sweet pet names.<br/>
<br/>
This thing they’ve got going on isn’t gonna change just because they label it differently. Rebeka can call it whatever she wants — that doesn’t change the fact that it’s the most serious, committed relationship he’s ever been in.<br/>
<br/>
He’s not gonna ask her to define it or put a name to whatever it is they’re doing. It’s fun, they’re both enjoying it, and that’s all that matters.<br/>
<br/>
And not to get all poetic and cheesy and annoying about it but he likes — no, loves — the way they’ve settled into this dynamic. The way she’s let down her guard around him, how he’s done the same, how they no longer need to spend an hour bickering before she’ll begrudgingly cuddle up to him.<br/>
<br/>
The competitive, flirty games they used to play? That was hot, but this is hotter. Better.<br/>
<br/>
They’re both consenting adults enjoying each other’s company. She isn’t shy about being affectionate with him in front of their friends, usually. That has to mean something.<br/>
<br/>
It’s enough for him. It’s more than he’s ever gotten from anyone else before.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
In January, Valerio finds himself busier than he’s ever been in his life. Not with parties; with actual work.<br/>
<br/>
He’s not gonna pretend and say he’s ever worked as much as a twenty-hour work week since taking Carla up on her offer of doing some work for the wineries. It’s not supposed to be a full-time job; he loves spending his days alternating between doing next to nothing or being super busy with things he actually wants to spend time on.<br/>
<br/>
The job was supposed to be an easy way to keep a roof over his head and have some semblance of a purpose in life; it sort of fell into his lap and he would’ve been stupid to refuse it, so he didn’t.<br/>
<br/>
Turns out he’s not terrible at this whole marketing thing. He doesn’t do any of the operational work himself, of course, but he comes up with a concept, talks a creative agency through the sort of audience they’re looking to attract, and the Instagram campaign actually does really well. So well, he finds himself in meetings with a few new venues and larger supermarket chains to discuss distribution deals in January.<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully — and he can’t believe he’s saying this either — Teodoro is around to help out with the financial side of things. Valerio can’t tell the difference between CAPEX and OPEX, so it’s good to have someone by his side who knows how to compile a basic balance sheet.<br/>
<br/>
It’s kind of a lot.<br/>
<br/>
For entirely unrelated reasons, December kind of sucked so he’s trying to take it easy.<br/>
<br/>
To their credit, his friends do try to get him to come out with them, but he really can’t afford to miss an entire day’s worth of having a fully working brain right now, so any partying that might result in a hangover is out of the question.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t see Rebeka for a whole ten days after New Year’s and doesn’t even really notice until she just starts blatantly texting him memes about being ghosted. It’s not that they haven’t been keeping in touch, but he hasn’t made any attempt at getting her to come over, and she hasn’t asked him to hang out either. He’s been a little distracted and he’d rather wait and see her when he knows he’ll be able to give her his full attention.<br/>
<br/>
But it’s Friday, he had a productive (so, like, four hours, but that’s a lot for him) day of meetings, and he thinks he deserves a treat. He texts her, suggests they go for a drink, and she just tells him she’ll be at his place in 30.<br/>
<br/>
When she pushes him up against his front door and pulls on his hair roughly, he figures the drink may not actually happen. He’s not complaining.<br/>
<br/>
In no time, they’re down on his living room floor, because she protested when he tried to push her towards his bedroom, and she’s on top of him. It’s kind of bizarre, seeing her be this aggressive and adamant, but he certainly doesn’t mind. It’s just a welcome change from the past few months of constantly seeing her hesitate as if she wasn’t sure whether she should be with him at all.<br/>
<br/>
He curses when she angles her hips just right against him and decides it’s time to stop analyzing the overall situation.<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Fuck, Rebe," he breathes out. He’s so turned on right now, he feels like a teenager. "You can't just fucking do that."<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She gets a wicked grin on her face, then reaches between them for his zipper. "But I want to.”<br/>
<br/>
It’s hard to argue with that logic, so he doesn’t.<br/>
<br/>
**</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Someone — he’s pretty sure it’s Omar — has the genius idea to suggest a weekend trip to Barcelona at the end of January.<br/>
<br/>
Valerio is immediately game. He needs a break; a few days and nights of reckless drunk debauchery sound pretty great to him. Rebeka isn’t convinced at first, but then Valerio does a terrible impression of Catalan, asks her if she really wants to miss out on him doing that for a whole weekend, and she groans as she books a ticket on her phone.<br/>
<br/>
Train tickets end up being three times as expensive as flights, so they decide to contribute to global warming by getting on a packed budget airline flight instead. The flight takes less than an hour and he spends it sitting next to strangers because all of them stubbornly refused to pay extra to sit together. Sure, they can all afford it, but it’s a matter of principle.<br/>
<br/>
The Airbnb has two bedrooms and a couch that pulls out, and Ander and Omar called dibs on the master bedroom on the cab ride over here, so Valerio figures Samuel and Guzmán can take the couch and he’ll share the other room with Rebe.<br/>
<br/>
Except then they walk in and it has bunk beds, which is less than ideal. There’s a brief moment of awkwardness when Samuel fails to understand why they won’t be taking the second bedroom, but in the end Guzmán elbows him hard enough to make him drop it.<br/>
<br/>
They all take a moment to gather their bearings, and Valerio grins at Rebe when she gives him a look that lets him know she’s still recovering from the awkwardness of their exchange with Samuel.<br/>
<br/>
“Cheer up,” he singsongs, then falls back onto the sofa and pulls her down with him so that she’s perched in his lap. “It’s only weird if you let it be.”<br/>
<br/>
“Easy for you to say,” she says, then moves so that she’s straddling him. “Your ex-girlfriend isn’t here acting all clueless.”<br/>
<br/>
He smirks. “I don’t have any ex-girlfriends.”<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah?” She grins, and he wonders why he likes being teased by her so much. “Cayetana would probably beg to differ.”<br/>
<br/>
He actually snorts at that. God, Rebe is so blunt sometimes, it’s fucking hilarious. He’s missed this side of her, even if her being more subdued and comfortable around him has been nice too.<br/>
<br/>
They’re kissing when Ander and Omar walk back into the living room a few minutes later, and Rebe doesn’t instantly jump off his lap at the catcalling and whistling, which has to be a good sign, right? All of their friends know they’re together, or whatever, and she’s clearly okay with that.<br/>
<br/>
Rebe gets up and holds out her hand for him to take. “Are we getting dinner or what?”<br/>
<br/>
He jumps up and crowds against her back, lets out a little howling sound to hype everyone up. When he walks towards the bathroom, he hears Ander snicker and say, “You know, if you two would rather stay in tonight, we’ll just go out without you.”<br/>
<br/>
Then Rebeka’s laughter echoes in the room. “Fuck off, asshole,” she says and Valerio is a little proud of her for taking the taunting so well.<br/>
<br/>
Dinner is fun, drinks are even better, and when they finally get back to the Airbnb at the end of the night they’re all tipsy and exhausted.<br/>
<br/>
He normally sleeps naked, but that’s obviously not an option when they’re sleeping in the living room which Samuel and Guzmán have to walk through to get to the bathroom at night. Rebeka laughs at him when he lies down wearing briefs, because it’s that out of the ordinary. She’s in a tank top and underwear, and he knows she’d probably prefer to be wearing one of his shirts and nothing else, too.<br/>
<br/>
When he pulls her close once they’re both horizontal and leans in to kiss her, she instantly rolls them over and gets on top of him, then breaks away from him and bites her lip. “We shouldn’t,” she whispers, because their friends are right next door and they probably didn’t even shut the door to the bedroom properly.<br/>
<br/>
But where’s the fun in being rational? He runs his hands over her lower back under her tank top, grabs her tightly and grins when she lets out a quiet moan. “Yeah, we should.”<br/>
<br/>
Neither of them is particularly good at staying quiet, and the next morning at breakfast Guzmán makes a joke about it, which quickly turns into further teasing from Omar and Ander and Rebeka blushes, which is probably the most adorable thing Valerio has ever seen. He shrugs off the remarks — it’s not his fault that their own sex lives are lacking enough, they feel the need to comment on his and Rebeka’s.<br/>
<br/>
Samuel awkwardly stares at his bowl of cereal for the whole exchange, and Valerio thinks that’s a good thing. He better stay out of this. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They see about one-fifth of the landmarks their Barcelona guidebook suggests they see, and none of them seem to care. They didn’t come here to be all cultured; they came here to hang out.<br/>
<br/>
When they get back to Madrid Sunday night, Rebeka is too exhausted to go all the way home, instead tells him to carry her upstairs when she falls asleep on his shoulder in the back of the cab.<br/>
<br/>
In the end, she wakes up when he pokes her arm, and groggily walks upstairs without his help, then instantly falls back on his bed and closes her eyes. She doesn’t go to school the next day and he ignores his work emails — they deserve a day where it’s just them.<br/>
<br/>
She leaves in the afternoon, says something about catching up on school work, and he’s kind of bummed.<br/>
<br/>
Life is always way more fun with her around.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">**<br/>
<br/>
Omar tags him in a photoset on Instagram the night after they get back from the trip, and he’s not sure why because he isn’t in the first few pictures. He swipes through them, then lands on a picture of him and Rebe on the beach, sharing his jacket because she got so cold her own wasn’t enough. In it, she’s grinning at him and he’s pointing something out to her in the distance and he texts Omar immediately asking for the original pictures so he can save them to his phone.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">He sends one of them to Rebeka, who replies with a knife emoji and nothing else. He knows her well enough to know that means she likes it, somehow. She barely uses other emojis, but in this instance, he can tell she agrees it's a nice picture. He texts back “Agreed” and laughs out loud when she just sends him more knife emojis. </span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Texting isn’t her strong suit.<br/>
<br/>
It’s a really cute picture, and he sees nothing wrong with it being on social media, but when Lu texts him mere minutes after the post went online, he kind of conveniently forgets to check his phone for a few hours. He has some work to catch up on, and he really isn’t in the mood for her bullshit.<br/>
<br/>
He reads her messages as he’s getting ready for bed, and it’s really just general chitchat and inquiring about his new relationship — it doesn’t sound backhanded, or like she’s probing — but he still keeps his reply short.<br/>
<br/>
It’ll take time for him to not feel weird sharing these things with her, for it to not leave a bad taste in his mouth to think about how he and Lu are almost kind of friends now.<br/>
<br/>
Considering all the fucked up history between them, that’s probably normal.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
It’s a few days later that Rebeka shows up drunk at his door. Or well, he assumes she's drunk based on how late it is and how many times she's just pushed the buzzer. <br/>
<br/>
He buzzes her up, then laughs at her when he sees her leaning against the doorframe in a way that he’s pretty sure is meant to look casual, when she probably just needs the support of the frame to prop herself up.<br/>
<br/>
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asks, then gestures for her to come in. She does, immediately takes off her black (hot) ankle boots and throws her jacket onto the nearest chair.<br/>
<br/>
He takes her in. She’s definitely dressed for a party. A party he apparently wasn’t invited to, but then again it’s Thursday and he’s got a few work meetings in the morning, so that’s probably for the best. Adulting is kind of annoying sometimes.<br/>
<br/>
“I was with Samuel,” she says a little too loudly, like this is important information for him to know. “We got drunk.”<br/>
<br/>
He takes her hand in his and motions for her to walk to his bedroom with him. It’s too late to have another drink, and she probably doesn’t need one anyway.<br/>
<br/>
Laughing, he says, “I can see that.”<br/>
<br/>
Rebeka frowns like she’s annoyed with him for not reading her mind. Drunk Rebeka gets incredibly petulant; it’s amusing.<br/>
<br/>
She turns around and pushes the zipper of her dress towards him, so he reaches over and unzips it. Neither of them is pretending like she isn’t going to spend the night anyway.<br/>
<br/>
The dress falls from her body and he lets himself admire the view for a moment. It’s a shame she’s too drunk for him to reach for her hip like he wants to and pull her close. He’s a little too into informed consent to just assume she’d want him to touch her right now.<br/>
<br/>
She falls back against his pillows and rolls her eyes at no one in particular. “He said I’m being stupid,” she sighs, then reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra.<br/>
<br/>
The lord is testing him. His incredibly attractive girl — that’s the best label he can come up with for her without making it sound too serious or intimidating for her to be okay with — is looking up at him through hooded eyes, only wearing a pair of simple black boy shorts, and she’s expecting him to keep a conversation going. A conversation that was apparently important enough to her that she came over at one in the morning to have it.<br/>
<br/>
“He called you stupid? Kind of rich, coming from him,” Valerio says. He’s never been Samuel’s biggest fan; he just never cared enough to make a big deal out of it. The guy is okay company to keep, but Valerio probably wouldn’t want to live with him again. He strips off his shirt, then a walks around the bed to sit down on his side, keeping enough space between them to resist the temptation of reaching over and playing with her hair<br/>
<br/>
Rebeka snorts. “Yeah, well,” she turns onto her stomach, which is probably a good thing, for his sanity. “I don’t care what he thinks anyway,” she decides, stubborn.<br/>
<br/>
Valerio can tell that’s bullshit, but it’s late and she’s drunk and he’s got work in the morning and she’s probably got school. He sets an alarm for seven, then turns off the lights and pulls her close.<br/>
<br/>
As he’s drifting off he hears her say, “I’m not stupid for wanting to keep you around,” and immediately wonders if he needs to have a serious chat with Samuel about this. Kissing her hair, he hums in agreement and figures sleep is probably more important than finding out what the hell she’s talking about.<br/>
<br/>
He can deal with the rest tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
The silver lining to being a former Las Encinas student himself is the school uniform blazer and tie he’s still got hanging in his closet. In the morning, Rebeka pairs it with a random, long (on her) white shirt of his and her tights from last night, uses his tie as a belt around her waist and it kind of works for her.<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It also looks so ridiculously hot he kind of has to go over and kiss her. They don’t have time to get carried away, because she has to get to school and he has to join a Zoom call, but she doesn’t seem to mind that he’s distracting her and probably making her late.<br/>
<br/>
When she moans and tries to push him down on his bed, he has to stifle a laugh. “Are you sure you have to go to school?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She bites her lip and nods but still looks conflicted.<br/>
<br/>
“Fine,” he says, then pecks her lips. “I’ll make coffee.”<br/>
<br/>
He likes being helpful. Rebeka needs coffee to wake up; he had to learn this the hard way.<br/>
<br/>
She really does leave after quickly chugging down her coffee, thanks him for letting her crash, and he kind of thinks they’re past the point where she even needs to mention it.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn’t need to put a label on things, but he kind of wishes she’d stop being so polite sometimes. She should feel free to take him for granted.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe that’s why he calls her during lunch, when he knows she’ll be sitting around at school.<br/>
<br/>
“Come over for dinner,” he tells her, and thinks he hears Ander and Guzmán in the background.<br/>
<br/>
“I can’t,” she says. ”I have to work on this assignment for school. It's stupid."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wants to laugh at that. All her assignments are stupid, if you ask her, which is sort of funny because she does well in school anyway. "What makes it stupid?"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn't take long to think before she answers, "I don't want to do it," and he does laugh at that. Of course she’d think that’s a valid answer.<br/>
<br/>
“Do you wanna come over and not do it at my place?”<br/>
<br/>
The way he can picture her smirk through the phone makes him grin. “If I come to your place, there’s no way we wouldn’t <em>do it</em>.”<br/>
<br/>
He hears Ander laughing next to her and figures he’ll let her get back to eating lunch. “Text me when you’re on your way.”<br/>
<br/>
She doesn’t text him. Instead, he hears keys rattling in his door later that day, and when he gets up to see who’s here to rob him, Rebeka pulls open the door and grins at him.<br/>
<br/>
“I may have stolen your spare set of keys after your whole depressive episode in December,” she says, grinning. “In case I ever needed to force my way in.”<br/>
<br/>
He should probably find that intrusive and weird, but that’s fucking hilarious. So he giggles, lets her ruffle his hair a little, and kicks the door closed behind her as she instantly goes in for his shirt buttons.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, her wearing his clothes? Hot. But he definitely likes the way she looks when he binds her hands together with his school tie even better.<br/>
<br/>
She never actually gets around to doing her homework, but she doesn’t seem too sad about it.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
He invites Samuel and Guzmán over for pizza and video games, mainly because it seems like the easiest excuse to get Samuel to come. He’s not planning on any tense confrontations, but he at least wants to check in with the guy and make sure to put him in his place a little. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The last thing he needs now that Rebeka seems to have almost come around to giving this thing between them a proper chance is Samuel meddling in his shit. Valerio may be an easygoing person, but that doesn’t mean he’ll let Samu get away with trying to sabotage him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Guzmán is really only there to act as a buffer between them —if things go awry and punches are thrown, he seems like a good mediator. Someone who dated Lu for over a year can probably handle a little passive-aggressive infighting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re halfway through finishing their pizza and playing another round of Fifa when Samuel, the little shit, reminds Valerio why he invited him here in the first place. It’s nice of him to bring it up, because it saves Valerio the trouble. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where’s Rebe? I didn’t think you two could stand to be apart for a whole night,” he says, and the way he laughs at the end of the statement is probably meant to make it sound casual, not insulting. Valerio doesn’t bite. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a stupid thing to say anyway — they might spend more nights together than alone, but Valerio has no idea why Samuel would be privy to that information or care about it in any way. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Next to him, Guzmán looks apprehensive, like he saw this coming. It’s probably fair enough; neither Samuel nor Valerio is particularly good at hiding their feelings. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Guzmán is the one to pause the game and reach for another slice of pizza instead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe it won’t come to physical blows. Maybe he can just subtly let the other boy know that he’s onto him. “What did you say to her the other night? She seemed really annoyed...”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Samuel looks like he’s caught off guard by that revelation, like he genuinely didn’t expect Rebeka to tell him about their little exchange. In fairness, she probably wouldn’t have if she hadn’t gotten too drunk to hide anything from him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing really,” Samu says, then reaches for his beer. “I just told her to be careful.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is probably the most annoying personality trait of Samuel’s by far — the way he constantly acts like a total asshole and claims he’s doing it under the guise of being a concerned friend. Valerio likes the guy, but he can be way too self-righteous sometimes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he punches his shoulder and laughs kind of meanly, then says, “I don’t think you get to be concerned about her anymore.”<br/>
<br/>
Samu just looks contemplative and nods begrudgingly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Didn’t think you were, like, serious about her,” Samu mutters, then chases the statement with a swig of beer. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Valerio doesn’t feel threatened by Samuel at all — he knows there’s no conceivable way Rebeka would ever even think about going there again — but he still can’t resist taking him down a peg. (or two.) </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A lot more serious than you were,” he says hotly, then laughs when Samu looks brooding and hurt, just slaps his thigh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That sort of settles the matter, and they go back to their Fifa tournament, but Valerio doesn’t miss the look Guzmán shoots him when Samu isn’t looking, like he’s amused by their antics. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Samu gets up to go to the bathroom, Guzmán clinks his beer bottle against Valerio’s and grins. “Dude, I didn’t know you could be so intimidating,” he says, and Valerio grins back at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Me neither,” he admits, and then they’re both laughing, loud enough that Samu looks confused when he walks back into the room. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Valerio leaves him to his confusion. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">**</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Valentine’s Day is, without a doubt, a stupid commercialized fake holiday that absolutely does not mean shit. But societal pressure is real, so Valerio is kind of really, really glad when he finds out some random kid from Las Encinas is throwing a party that night — he didn’t really want to deal with Rebeka’s commitment issues and have her fight him on the idea of going to dinner with him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe she wouldn’t have minded at all, but he thinks he’s better off not knowing for now. He doesn’t love how he still second-guesses her like this all the time, like she’s gonna change her mind any day now.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe he’s still a little fucked up from the whole Lu thing.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He arrives to the party after she does, and when he finds her she’s talking to a shorthaired girl in a corner, drinking from a bottle of beer. He walks over and puts an arm around her waist because the other girl looks hot and vaguely bi-curious, and he doesn’t want her to get any ideas — Rebeka isn’t on the market for a hookup. (Rebe looks incredibly sexy, too, so he doesn’t blame the other chick for flirting; he just makes sure to shut that shit down before anything happens.) </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, so this is the infamous boyfriend,” the girl says, smirking, and he nods proudly even as Rebeka groans at the girl. He’s glad Rebe has at least mentioned him in passing; that’s promising.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They both get a little drunk, spend time dancing and playing a hopeless game of beer pong with Ander and Omar, which they inevitably lose. Following all of that beer, he finds himself sitting in a quiet corner of the room with Rebeka in his lap, and runs a hand over her knee as he laughs in her ear. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What makes me so infamous?” He asks, because asking about the label of boyfriend seems a little too blatant. The way she instantly tenses up shows she knows exactly what conversation he’s referring to. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Rebe sort of turns in his lap, sitting sideways so she can face him. “Your reputation precedes you,” she grins, then pecks his lips. “Apparently half of the school thinks you’re some sort of drugged up, badass hot guy fantasy.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That makes him laugh. He’s kind of the furthest thing from a badass these days and he’s pretty sure he never was one in the first place. Not all drug users are created equal; he’s always been way too emotional and impulsive to be considered cool in any capacity. But he’s glad that’s the vibe he gives off — aloofness is a pretty good thing to be known for, in his book.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smirks and pulls her closer. “Which half of the student population do you fall in?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She kisses him in response, and he thinks that’s the best possible answer she could’ve given. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m definitely a badass,” he says, and Rebe shoots him a doubtful look. “What, you don’t think I’m hot?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re in public, and totally just playing around, but he doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilate a little, like she’s fighting the urge to kiss him. He figures there’s no reason to fight that urge at all and leans in, biting down on her lip for good measure. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a high school party, alright? They can act like horny teenagers even if Valerio technically isn’t a teen anymore. He’s pretty sure none of their mutual friends are around to see it anyway. Things get a little heated, and Rebeka has more self-control than he thought because she finally pulls away, grabs his hand to get him to move it from where it’s splayed under her shirt and gets up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, Romeo,” she throws over her shoulder as she pulls him along. “Time to show off those latino dance moves of yours.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s definitely the most fun Valentine’s Day he’s ever had, infinitely better than his last one which he spent getting involved in a messed up threesome with two of the most mentally deranged people he’s ever met, right before Polo left for boarding school.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Samuel gives them a little nod as they walk past him on the way to their cab later, and Valerio winks at him for good measure, just because. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gets to take her home; anything Samuel has to say about them doesn’t matter at all as long as she ends up in his bed at the end of the night. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Victory tastes so sweet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">(Rebeka tastes sweeter.) </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">** </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her birthday is at the end of March, and when he asks her what she wants for it, she gives him this cute little look and says, “To get away.”<br/>
<br/>
He probably shouldn’t have asked her at three am, when they’re both on the brink of falling asleep and struggling to snap out of the tipsy haze the wine they’ve been drinking all night has left behind.<br/>
<br/>
Her answer is pretty vague, but he figures he can make it work. He’s good at surprises.<br/>
<br/>
Her birthday falls on a Wednesday, and he knows their friends are throwing her a party on the weekend, so she’s free to spend the whole day with him. Getting away to another city for a day seemed a little pointless, so instead he meets her outside of the gates of her house in the morning, tells her driver to take them to the address of the hotel he booked for the day and grins when she tries and fails to protest this little abduction.<br/>
<br/>
“This is kidnapping, you know,” she says, but she’s already taken off her school blazer in defeat. The smile on her lips betrays any attempt at pretending she’s not totally excited to see where he’s taking her<br/>
<br/>
He reaches over and toys with the rings on her fingers. “We’ve been over this, Rebe, I can’t kidnap you because you’re not a kid.”<br/>
<br/>
She may be trying to fight him on this, but he knows she’ll love what he’s got planned for the day. Once they get to the hotel, he takes her up to the room he’s booked, complete with a private jacuzzi out on a terrace overlooking the city and she kind of gasps.<br/>
<br/>
“If you’d told me, I would’ve brought a swimsuit,” she says, and he laughs and points at the stack of clothes sitting on the bed. Yeah; he thought ahead and snuck some clothes out of her closet over the past couple of days. The fact that she clearly didn’t notice is proof that she owns way too much stuff.<br/>
<br/>
Based on the way she’s blinking a little too fast, she’s having trouble hiding just how thrilled she is about all of this. “So, what do we do first?”<br/>
<br/>
He laughs and shakes his head at her. “It’s your birthday, you decide,” he says, then strips off his pants and shirt and puts on the fluffy white hotel robe instead. “Though I did go ahead and book us a couple’s massage at 11.”<br/>
<br/>
That’s not for another two hours, so they have time.<br/>
<br/>
She seems to think that’s hilarious, if her ringing laughter is anything to go by. “A couple’s massage? Are we 85?”<br/>
<br/>
“You’re almost in your twenties, this is the beginning of the end for you,” he grins, and she rolls her eyes at him, then proceeds to strip down to just her underwear as she slips into her own robe. He pulls her close by grabbing onto the white cotton. “Might as well enjoy your hot young bod while you can.”<br/>
<br/>
She beams at him and leans up for a kiss. “You’re a fucking idiot.”<br/>
<br/>
“You love it,” he teases, and she nods.<br/>
<br/>
He ends up pulling her into his arms, then carries her out and basically drops her into the jacuzzi, so he doesn't really have time to think about how they've never really said they 'loved' anything about one another before.<br/>
<br/>
For all the teasing, she actually seems super into the massage. The sounds she’s making are driving him a little insane, and as relaxing as it is to have a stranger work all the knots out of his shoulders, he’s already counting down the seconds until he gets to be alone with her again.<br/>
<br/>
When they get back to their room, she checks her phone and laughs. “Ander called me like five times, pretty sure he thinks I’m dead.”<br/>
<br/>
He stops her from calling him back, instead takes a picture of her in her oversized white robe and texts it to Ander, telling him not to call again.<br/>
<br/>
It’s his turn to laugh, then, because Ander instantly texts him back saying Omar owes him 50 euros now — apparently they had a bet going on whether Rebeka was spending her birthday with him.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s so funny?” She pokes his chest and wrestles him to take his phone from him. When she finally gets him to hand it over, she reads the text and groans, shakes her head smiling. “Those fuckers need to learn to mind their own business.”<br/>
<br/>
He’s tempted to tell her it’s kind of their business by association, but then her stomach growls, so he figures his energy is better used figuring out what sort of room service to order.<br/>
<br/>
She wants a steak <em>and</em> pasta, and it’s her birthday, so he tells her to get both and split them with him. He tries to convince her to go for cheesecake over mousse au chocolat, just because a birthday isn’t complete without cake, but she just glares at him until he relents, dials room service and reads out their order. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They get tipsy on champagne, spend enough time in the jacuzzi for their skin to get all pruney, and by the time they actually turn off the lights to sleep, Rebeka looks more calm and comfortable than he’s ever seen her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulls her close, spooning her from behind and smiles against her hair when she lets out a content sigh. “Had a good birthday getaway?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lets out the same sigh again, and he grins. “Good. Happy birthday,” it’s the first time he’s said it all day, even though her birthday is technically over. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her hand comes up to rest over his, squeezing reassuringly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Valerio decides this is gonna be their new birthday tradition.<br/>
<br/>
**</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The party on Friday is fun, too. Guzmán and Omar got Sandra in on it, so they’re hosting it at Rebeka’s house, and even though it’s still a little too cold to spend the whole night outside, they set up a barbecue in the garden and put up decorations. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Valerio’s main role in this plot is to get Rebeka out of the house and distract her until everything is set up. He likes getting the easiest task out of all the prep work. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They go for dinner near his place, and he can tell Rebe has absolutely no idea that she’ll walk into a full-blown party when she gets home later today because she says something about having an essay due and going to bed early. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who enjoys surprises, so maybe he should tell her, but he promised their friends he wouldn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he insists on coming back home with her, she seems suspicious. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please tell me there’s no surprise party waiting for me at home,” she says in the back of the cab on the way to her place. She groans when he just grins at her in response. “And here I thought I’d successfully avoided another year of forced socializing as punishment for being born.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it ends up being a huge success. Or a small success, anyway, because Valerio made sure to shoot down the idea of inviting half of the school; instead there are maybe fifteen people total crowding around the bonfire in the backyard when they arrive. Intimate parties seem more like Rebe’s style. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She kisses him in front of all of their friends and some of her new classmates at the end of the night when he asks her if she’s having fun. They’ve never done this before — acted so blatantly like a couple in front of everyone they know. He kind of really, really loves it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not that he’s usually partial to PDA, but it’s nice to get to show off that she’s his. That’s a pretty amazing feeling. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After midnight, he whispers something about wrapping this up so they can sneak upstairs in her ear and she rolls her eyes, but she definitely checks him out a little when she does, so there’s that, too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everyone’s gone by two in the morning, and they clean up a little before saying goodnight to Sandra, who’s just watching them with a little grin on her face as she smokes a cigarette. Her mom kind of intimidates him, but he supposes if that grin is her way of saying she approves of him dating her daughter, he’ll take it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This was fun,” Rebe says later, when they’re in bed, naked and both trying to catch their breath. For a minute he isn’t sure if she’s talking about the party or the sex they just had. She rolls over and straddles him, smiles when his hands instantly come up to grab her hips. “Never throw me a surprise party ever again, okay?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He chuckles. “Not a fan of surprises?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not unless they involve being kidnapped by you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The reference to their silly inside joke makes him grin at her, and she leans down and kisses him lazily. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think you should be with me if you don’t like surprises,” he says, breaking away from the kiss to catch his breath. “They’re kind of my thing.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sighs, rolls her eyes and kisses him again. That probably means she’s fine with it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They have breakfast with her mom in the morning, and that’s new, too — how Rebeka doesn’t try and sneak him out of the house to avoid awkward conversation over breakfast. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It feels like it’s a much bigger deal than it should be. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">**<br/>
<br/>
It’s a call from Lu, of all people, that makes him want to call Rebeka up and tell her she has nothing to worry about.<br/>
<br/>
All things considered, it’s really fucking weird.<br/>
<br/>
“You know,” Lu says one night when they’re catching up on FaceTime. “Nadia says Rebeka has commitment issues.”<br/>
<br/>
He laughs, because he thinks it’s amusing that she thinks this is any of her business or something he didn’t know already. “What’s your point, Lu? I don’t have time for this cryptic shit.”<br/>
<br/>
He really doesn’t; he’s meeting Rebe for dinner in an hour. He’d kind of like some time to recover from this tense conversation before then.<br/>
<br/>
“The Samuel thing fucked her up, or something… Trust issues,” Lu says, and it’s not like he didn’t know that was probably a thing in theory, but to know she openly told Nadia about that is… interesting.<br/>
<br/>
“You really shouldn’t be telling me this,” he mutters, and thinks it’s kind of bizarre that Nadia would be sharing all of this information with Lu in the first place. That’s kind of shitty. “But I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”<br/>
<br/>
Lu grins. “Just trying to help you out here, hermanito.”<br/>
<br/>
It’s honestly not helpful at all.<br/>
<br/>
At dinner, he’s distracted, trying to figure out how to delicately bring up the fact that he isn’t like Samuel, that he wouldn’t ever be that much of a dick to her, that he has no plans to get her mother arrested and spend his entire time with her pining for some blonde chick.<br/>
<br/>
Valerio doesn’t even like blondes; she has absolutely nothing to worry about.<br/>
<br/>
He’s apparently distracted enough for her to comment on it.<br/>
<br/>
“What’s gotten into you? You haven’t joked about getting me drunk to take advantage of me once tonight,” she winks, and he’d normally be all over that, but today he just feels off.<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Sorry,” he sighs, then runs a hand through his hair. “Having a weird day.”<br/>
<br/>
Rebeka smiles and nods, just takes a bite of her pizza and lets it go.<br/>
<br/>
He kind of really loves her for that.<br/>
<br/>
Fuck. Maybe that’s part of what he’s struggling with too — that he kind of loves her, a lot, in general.<br/>
<br/>
They fall asleep in his bed later, all tangled up together, and she’s the one doing the comforting when his whole game plan was being the one to do that tonight. Fuck her for being this amazing.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">“Hey,” she whispers, looking up at him in the dark room. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”<br/>
<br/>
Well, that at least gives him an opening to reciprocate. Comforting payback, or something.<br/>
<br/>
“Me neither,” he says, then leans down to peck her lips, and that’s kind of that.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe her commitment issues and his childhood abandonment issues go really well together.<br/>
<br/>
Valerio decides he doesn’t really care as long as they’re both here right now.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
May ends up being kind of a throwaway month; Rebeka has to re-sit all of her IB exams from last year (which he thinks is ridiculous, honestly — if she passed them before, why would they bother making her re-take them?) and he’s pretty much in constant contact with Teodoro about some distribution deal gone wrong. It’s exhausting.<br/>
<br/>
He sees Rebeka once or twice a week usually, and it’s really mainly them snapping at each other, then turning it into ways to rile each other up and having really, really hot sex. They both need the stress relief; he’s totally fine with it, and she probably is, too.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">She comes over after her final exam at the end of May, a bottle of tequila in hand. He’s on a work call and she let herself in, but he still motions for her to take a seat and get the shot glasses out.<br/>
<br/>
The second he hangs up the phone, she hands him a shot glass that’s filled to the brim and grins.<br/>
<br/>
“How was your math exam?”<br/>
<br/>
She throws the tequila back in response. “It’s over now, isn’t it? Let’s not talk about that shit ever again,” and if he didn’t know her alcohol tolerance is kind of legendary at this point, he’d probably tell her to slow down because she’s already pouring herself another shot.<br/>
<br/>
They get a little too drunk on tequila, but it’s the kind of blissful chance happenstance where they’re both the same amount of drunk, on the same level of intoxicated stupor, which is preferable to one of them getting absolutely shitfaced while the other stays completely sober.<br/>
<br/>
They usually end up naked together when they drink tequila, and tonight is no different except it<em> is</em>. This isn’t fast and rough and all about chasing pleasure; it’s slow and intense and kind of overwhelming.<br/>
<br/>
When she screams out his name as she grinds up against him, he swears he loses touch with reality for a moment.<br/>
<br/>
"Stop," she sort of whispers, and clearly doesn't mean it at all, so he doesn’t. He loves it when she says things like that. “Please, Val, I—“<br/>
<br/>
She’s getting more incoherent by the second, and he’s not faring much better himself.<br/>
<br/>
And yeah, she’s always the one doing the talking when they’re in the middle of things — it’s like she loses any emotional filter she might otherwise put on.<br/>
<br/>
"You feel so good," she says when his lips move to her neck, her legs wrapping around his hip as tight as they can possibly go. He’s about five shots of tequila past being able to vocalize any of the myriads of things she’s currently making him feel, but the look on her face tells him she knows, anyway.<br/>
<br/>
“Fuck,” she whimpers, then kisses him all wet and sloppy. “I need you.”<br/>
<br/>
It probably says something about him that his brain suddenly kicks into gear again and helps him actually reply. “You have me.”<br/>
<br/>
She comes harder than she ever has before, and he sort of slumps against her when he follows her over the edge seconds later, buries her under his weight.<br/>
<br/>
He has no idea why that was as intense as it was, but he’s not complaining.<br/>
<br/>
She’s fucking great.<br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
“You’re coming to graduation, right?”<br/>
<br/>
She’s asking in a way that lets him know she’s not really asking. It’s cute.<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He nods, then goes to drain the pasta he’s making when the timer on his phone goes off. “Did you not want me to?”<br/>
<br/>
“No, of course. I— of course I want you to be there.”<br/>
<br/>
They've been doing a lot of this lately, saying things that are pretty serious and trying to make them sound like they’re not.<br/>
<br/>
He’d be fine to just come straight out and tell her, but knows she’d probably just run away screaming if he did. It’s fine. They’ve made it this far; he can afford to do things at her pace for a little while longer.<br/>
<br/>
Graduation is about as dull as he assumed it would be, but he does get to take her out for dinner after, grins when she remarks on how fancy they both look — a little too fancy for grabbing Five Guys, but it was what she wanted, so that’s where they ended up.<br/>
<br/>
The picture he has someone take of them sitting in the red leather booth, her in her low cut purple off the shoulder dress and him in a simple tux is one for the ages. She's got a milkshake in her hand and he's dipping a fry, and it looks really fucking classy and random at once. <br/>
<br/>
It describes them perfectly. <br/>
<br/>
**<br/>
<br/>
They have a minor fight on their third day in Tenerife, where her mother sent them as a graduation present.<br/>
<br/>
She’s in a criminally tiny bikini and he’s just stepped out of the shower, so he’s naked aside from the towel around his waist.<br/>
<br/>
She looks ridiculously hot, and he makes a snide remark about her being a tease. She somehow takes offense, like he said she makes a habit out of leading guys on, and... t totally came out all wrong. He instantly wants to take it back. He didn’t even mean to say it at all; he’s not even sure he <em>thought</em> it.<br/>
<br/>
Rebe is vicious when they fight; she walks over and slaps him, then sort of grins at him and it’s like all the heat of the moment aggression instantly passes. It weirds him out sometimes, how quickly they resolve these disagreements, small or large, like they’re both a little too in tune with each other.<br/>
<br/>
"This wasn't supposed to mean anything," she says quietly, looking down.<br/>
<br/>
It’s a little unfair of her to bring this up when it’s almost midnight, and they’ve both had a few drinks. He’s not sure he’s in the right state of mind to have this overdue conversation right now.<br/>
<br/>
When he doesn’t reply, it’s like she forces herself to repeat her earlier sentiment. “It wasn’t, but—“<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">He instantly tenses up. She’s implying that it <em>does</em> mean something now. That she didn’t want it to but it just does. He knows her well enough by now to know she won’t be the one to say it out loud.<br/>
<br/>
“But it does,” he says instead, because it's true and maybe if he says it, she'll agree and everything will be fine.<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">She sighs, and he can’t tell if it’s a happy or a worried sigh, then nods as she looks anywhere but at him.<br/>
<br/>
He’s not going to elaborate. He knows she'll figure it out.<br/>
<br/>
</span> <span class="s1">**<br/>
<br/>
It takes them almost a full year to figure the whole label thing out.<br/>
<br/>
They don’t really change anything. Neither of them changes their relationship status on Facebook, or anything as dumb and trivial as that.<br/>
<br/>
He tells her he loves her in August, sort of unplanned, and she grins at him bashfully, just says, “I know,” like she wouldn’t have completely freaked out on him just a few months ago if he’d told her then. <br/>
<br/>
They’re on his bed, and it’s early in the morning, too early for him to feel this nervous about anything.<br/>
<br/>
When it doesn’t look like she has any plans of saying anything else, he pokes her shoulder, then pushes her into the mattress and tickles her until she’s begging him to stop.<br/>
<br/>
“Say it,” he dares, tickling her briefly for good measure. “Say it and I’ll stop.”<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully she doesn't seem to need much prompting.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course I love you, dumbass,” she says, and he kind of wonders how the fuck he got lucky enough to keep her.<br/>
<br/>
He’s never gonna stop thinking about that.<br/>
<br/>
// fin</span></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me <a href="http://cupcakeb.tumblr.com/">on tumblr</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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